


Merry Christmas, Precious

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-12
Updated: 2005-01-12
Packaged: 2019-02-05 14:25:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12796398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: It's Clive and Trenton's first Christmas as a couple, and the Dom thinks his sub is finally ready to venture a little more into the D/s community.





	Merry Christmas, Precious

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

**Pairing** : Clive/Trenton

 

**Notes** : Clive is an original character introduced in my DC fandom Mary Sue story--Career Girl Blues. He proved so popular that he got two series of his own to play in. The Further Adventures of Clive, the Leather Hairdresser follows his relationship with his much younger lover, Trenton. In the second story of the series, I introduced the Doms and Dommes Club. This is the story of the first time Clive took Trent to one of their gatherings. Lyrics from Santa Baby, by J. Javits and P. Springer.

 

 

His name was Trenton Vittelli, and he would be hard pressed to think of any one moment in his life when he had been happier.

 

"Ting-ting-a-ling. Hear the bells ring. What does the calendar say? Days have been flowing, now it is snowing. Soon it will be Christmas day..."

 

The voice was a pleasant, clear tenor. There wasn't much foot traffic on the street this time of the morning, but the few strollers smiled at the sound of the carol, eyes following the singer. Trent was a tall boy, and he moved with the unconscious grace of an athlete. A knit cap was pulled low over his dark, red-brown curls, and every word made a puff of fog on the chilly air.

 

He paused for a moment in front of the deli next door to Attitudes, and examined the decorations with envy. In Trenton's opinion, the owner had really gotten into the spirit. The glass was thickly edged with fake frost, and painted with images of holly, presents, ornaments, reindeer, and Christmas trees, all outlined with gilt. Trent had begged and wheedled Clive, but the Dom was adamant. "I will not have my establishment tarted up like that, Trent. A few tasteful touches in honor of the season is one thing, but Mister Kravitz does not understand the concept of 'understatement'."

 

Trenton tore himself away from the garish display, and stepped over to Attitudes. He reached into his pocket, and felt a glow of pride as his fingers closed around his key ring. It had been a gift from Clive at the beginning of autumn. When he'd presented Trenton with the box, the boy had given him a questioning look. "My birthday isn't till December."

 

"This isn't for your birthday, pet. It's a 'just because' present."

 

Trenton was delighted with the otter etched on the silver charm (a tribute, Clive informed him, to his swimming skill, and playful nature), but he was puzzled. "Clive, there are already a couple of keys on it."

 

"Yes, dear." Clive touched one. "This is to Attitudes. You're helping me a lot now, and there's no telling when you might need to get in. And this," he touched the second, looking into Trenton's eyes, "is to my place." Trenton had felt a sudden spike of pure joy. He knew... had known for a long time that he belonged to Clive, but the key was solid, hold-in-your-hand proof that Clive had accepted him into his life.

 

Trenton unlocked the door and stepped inside. Feeling smug, he patted the paper sack he was carrying. *Well, maybe I'm not allowed to decorate the front part of the shop, but darn it, Clive isn't going to completely escape festive trimmings.* He relocked the door and made his way back toward Clive's office.

 

He had the stations restocked with the basic necessities, and coffee was brewing by the time the rest of the staff started arriving. His mother greeted him with a kiss, setting out a plate of cookies by the coffee maker. "Hello, sweetie. My, you were up early."

 

Trenton grinned at her. "I just couldn't wait. I put a couple of finishing touches on it last night, and I wanted to be certain I got it in place before Clive arrived." He heard some of the other girls giggling in the back of the store, and knew that they'd found his gift to Clive. He raised his voice. "Try to imagine what Clive would do to anyone who touched that without permission." He was answered by more laughter and a few ribald comments that made him blush.

 

"Trenton, don't you have a study session shortly?" Trenton was in his first semester at college, and was doing very well--except in math. There he was struggling. Even though he was on Christmas vacation, he was being tutored.

 

Trenton looked guilty. "I thought I could skip this one."

 

"M-hm. You know what you told the girls about Clive's reaction if they messed with his present? How do you think he'll react if you skip studying?" Trenton paled. The tutoring was Clive's idea, and he was paying for it. "Exactly. If you wanted to give it to him personally, you should have waited till this afternoon."

 

"But I couldn't wait! Oh, heck. Well, you can't have everything." He kissed his mother, waved to the others, and left.

 

As the first customer came in, Bettina said to Lynette, "It's pretty, but d'you think Clive is gonna be pissed? He said no decorating without his permission."

 

Lynette smiled. "I don't think Trent has too much to worry about in this case."

 

Clive came in a little later. He was wearing his usual leather jacket, but the collar was turned up around his ears, and his hands were buried in the pockets. "Good morning, my busy little bees," he said cheerfully. "Gracious, but the holiday party season is good for business."

 

"You can say that again," said the receptionist. "Everyone has a full schedule, and there's a stand-by list, in case someone doesn't show up. You could have double the appointments that you've got."

 

"But that would spoil my relaxed, cheerful holiday mood, dear. What is THAT?" His voice was suddenly not-quite-so bright, and he pointed back toward his office. "There is something very bright and colorful hanging on my office door." He looked around suspiciously at the now quiet staff. "I thought I made it very clear that I, and I alone, would do any decorating."

 

"Trenton brought that in this morning," said Lynette.

 

"Oh, he did, did he?" Clive's voice became even chillier. He loved Trenton dearly, and often indulged him, but he was also a Dom who had given his sub a direct order, which seemed to have been ignored. He glanced at Lynette, and was surprised by her amused expression. "Has he often disobeyed you?"

 

"No, but our relationship is a bit different. Take a closer look at it, Clive."

 

"I fully intend to." Clive removed his jacket with impatient jerks as he stalked back to the office. Not even breaking stride, he tossed it to Bettina as he passed. "Be a lamb and hang that up for me." Bettina looked down at the jacket with wide eyes. Clive, letting her take care of his jacket? This was serious.

 

Clive approached his office door. When he'd left the previous evening it had been sanely and soberly clean, bearing nothing but a plain brass name plate that said simply THE BOSS. Now... It was approximately the size and shape of a spare tire, but not nearly so practical. The circle was thickly covered with small silver, red, and green, objects. Clive came to a stop, eyes narrowing as he studied it. His eyebrows slowly lifted. The circle was absolutely covered with foil wrapped chocolate drops and green and red wrapped peppermint drops.

 

Lynette came up behind him, and Clive said quietly, "He knows my weaknesses, drat him, but I was very clear..."

 

"He made it himself."

 

Clive glanced back at her, and there was a hint of a smile. "Did he?"

 

She nodded. "He's been working on it for days. It took him quite a while just to figure out how to fasten everything on without making it impossible to remove and eat the candy. He finally ended up using short bits of ribbon, glued at both ends. Didn't you notice the blister on his finger yesterday?"

 

"Yes. He told me he got it in the kitchen."

 

"He didn't lie. That's where he did most of his work, but he got it from a hot glue gun. See the little pair of scissors hanging from the ribbon? You just use it to snip off whatever you want." She heard her name called, and looked up toward the front, where a customer was waiting patiently at the counter. "Read the card before you decide how you're going to react to this." She left.

 

There was a red envelope tucked into the center of the wreath, with Clive's name written in Trenton's familiar, round script. Clive took the envelope and opened it, extracting a card. It wasn't a traditional Christmas card, but one of those where the sender could write their own sentiments inside. The picture on the outside did have a winter theme. It was a beautiful snowscape that showed a mountain lion crouched on a hilltop, majestically surveying his domain. Clive smiled, remembering that a puma was one of his favorite comparisons for Clive. 

 

On the inside it said, 'I know you said no decorations, and I'll understand if you don't want to keep this here. Maybe you can keep it at home, instead. Anyway, Merry First Christmas. I love you. Trent'.

 

Clive smiled, then said softly, "My brat."

 

Bettina was up by Lynette's station. As the older woman combed through her client's damp hair, Bettina whispered, "Is Trent gonna be in trouble with Clive?"

 

Lynette watched as Clive tucked the card into his shirt, then picked up the dangling pair of scissors. He snipped off a chocolate drop, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. He walked back into his private station, lips pursed slightly as he sucked on the treat. "No, I don't think so."

 

Clive spent the morning attending to a few privileged clients, but the door to the private station stayed open. There was nothing going on in there but premium hair care. While each customer left with their coiffure expectations completely satisfied, one or two were sighing from other unsatisfied hopes. Clive's private station, and what occasionally happened there when the door was closed, was justifiably renowned.

 

He escorted one of his clients, a young woman who kept pausing to peer into mirrors to admire the way her new blonde and cinnamon highlights glinted under the shop lights, up to the front counter, and broke into a smile when he saw the couple there. A short, slender woman in a severe business suit was paying the cashier. Just behind her, and to her left, was a young woman who would have made an excellent Amazon, except that she tended to be more curvy than muscular. Despite her size, she was dressed in a rather old-fashioned, feminine style, with lots of ruffles and lace. There was even the lift and rustle of petticoats, and Clive knew that most women had given these up years ago. "Chloe! How are you, dear?"

 

The rather severe looking older woman smiled, accepting a brief peck on the cheek. "Splendid, Clive. I'd have been better if I'd been able to turn Mathilda over to you. You're staff is excellent, but..."

 

"Now, now. You know how it is around here during the holidays, and I do not bump clients except for emergencies--not even for friends. How is your girl?"

 

"She can speak for herself."

 

Now that she'd been given permission, Mathilda, who had kept her eyes fixed on the floor, looked up at Clive, and smiled shyly. "Hi, Clive."

 

"Hello, Tilda. You look blooming. How's the culinary school coming along?"

 

"We spent an entire day learning how to break and whisk eggs."

 

"Perfection is in the details, dear."

 

"How's Trent?"

 

Clive's smile softened. "A brat, but a wonderful one."

 

"When are you going to bring him to a D and D party?"

 

"Tilda!" Chloe's voice was stern, and the girl immediately bowed her head.

 

"It's all right, Chloe."

 

"Well... All right." Mathilda peeked up at her. "This time. But you know better than that."

 

"Yes, ma'am," Mathilda murmured.

 

Clive reached out and smoothed down a wisp of Mathilda's hair. "He's asked that himself, many, many times since Halloween."

 

Chloe smiled. "He was rather fascinated, wasn't he?"

 

"That he was."

 

October 31, earlier that year

 

Lynette looked up as Trenton came through the door of Attitudes. The boy staggered, stiff legged. His tee shirt was blood encrusted, and the left side of his face was a red, mangled ruin. Trenton wobbled toward her, clutching at air, groaning. "Very nice, hon."

 

Immediately Trenton's lurch changed to his usual smooth stride, and he came to the counter. "Bitchin', isn't it? Those guys in the drama department are geniuses with stage make-up."

 

"You'll be the hit of the student haunted house."

 

He shrugged. "Nah. That will be Todd. They've got him fixed up as Fetish Man. He looks like he has tattoos, scarification, or piercing over almost every square inch of his body." He wiggled his eyebrows. "I shudder to think what they would have come up with if they didn't want to keep this thing R rated." He looked around. "Where's Clive?"

 

"He's in his station with a client, but he said you could come on back. He wants to see your get-up."

 

"Great." Trenton made his way back to the private station, pausing now and then to growl and swipe at giggling customers and stylists. He knocked on the door and heard, "Who's that pecking at my door?"

 

"The only zombified swimmer in the city."

 

"Come in, precious."

 

Trenton went in. Clive was putting the finishing touches on the hair of a severely handsome woman. She looked at his reflection in the mirror, and said dryly, "Clive, I didn't think you were that rough on your submissives."

 

He swatted her shoulder. "Chloe, this is my boy, Trenton. Trenton, this is my friend Chloe and her girl, Mathilda."

 

Trenton noticed the other woman in the room. She was a big, blonde girl, standing in the corner. And that's what she looked like, a very big girl. She was wearing a fetishists idea of a schoolgirl uniform--plaid pleated skirt that barely came down to the top of her thighs, a severely tailored white blouse beneath which she was obviously braless, a narrow, striped man's tie, knee socks, and Oxfords. Her hair was in puppy-ears, and she was wearing a straw boater tilted on the back of her head.

 

Clive whisked the poncho off Chloe. The older woman's black suit was so severe that it wouldn't have been out of place on a 1950s women's prison matron. Trenton's eyes brightened. The pieces fell into place, especially when he saw Chloe picking up a sturdy yardstick. This was a Domme/sub pair. Trenton quickly bowed his head, fixing his eyes on the floor before the older woman.

 

She nodded her approval. "He's been in the life less than a year, Clive? You've already gotten him pretty well trained."

 

Clive reached over and rubbed Trenton's hair affectionately. "Trenton is a willing learner. My lamb is going to be one of the actors at the college haunted house. What is it you're going to be doing again, precious?"

 

"I get to suddenly pop out from under a shroud in the morgue set and start to eat an attendant, sir," said Trenton.

 

Mathilda looked at Chloe, who nodded. "That sounds so cool! It almost sounds like a scene. That's what we're doing at the D and D party tonight." She smiled sunnily. "I get caught reading something really naughty, and..." she swished her hand through the air several times.

 

"D and D?"

 

Chloe looked at Clive. "You haven't told your boy about the club yet?"

 

"I hadn't thought he was ready for it yet. Would Mathilda be willing to explain things to him while we settle up?" Chloe thought about this. "She'll be quite safe with him."

 

Chloe laughed, "Oh, I've no doubt of that. The question is will he be safe with her?" Trenton looked at Mathilda, wide-eyed. She'd unwrapped a lollipop and was sucking it lavishly, peeking at him through a fringe of bangs. "Tilda?"

 

"Yes, ma'am?"

 

"Hands off the pretty boy, or the scene tonight will be more realistic than you'd like."

 

Mathilda pouted. "Yes, ma'am." The two adults left, and Mathilda smiled at him. "Think I'll get in trouble if I sit in the chair?"

 

He returned the smile. "I don't think so, but it was a good idea to ask."

 

"I wouldn't mind getting spankies from Clive," she said, settling, "but what I'd get from Mommy when I went home wouldn't be the fun kind. So, Doms and Dommes. Clive really hasn't told you about it?" Trenton shook his head. Mathilda frowned. "How old are you, anyway?"

 

"I'll be eighteen in December."

 

"Oh, that explains it, then. Okay, the Doms and Dommes Club has a membership of, well, Doms and Dommes. And by extension, their subs. We have a monthly meeting, members with big enough places taking it in turn to act as host. There are seasonal parties, and occasional events, like charity fund raisers."

 

"The Club does public service?" asked Trenton, curious.

 

"You betcha! Some are just for the club, like slave auctions, but some are for the public. We had a car wash that raised a ton for the March of Dimes last year. We did it in modified costumes." She smiled impishly. "Chloe wore her Xena drag, and some guy paid two hundred bucks for her to take off the skirt and wash his car in the top and bikini bottom."

 

"The club meetings and parties--are these, uh, orgies?"

 

Mathilda cocked her head thoughtfully. "Some people would think so. I mean, there's usually sex going on somewhere, but everyone isn't just humping away like bunnies. It's a social gathering--orgies are all about sex. At least that's how I differentiate."

 

"Do you have to... uh..."

 

She grinned. "You really are new to the life. I don't have to do anything except what Chloe tells me to. She's not going to tell me to do anything she thinks I won't like, and she knows me v-e-r-y well."

 

"So you stay right with her?"

 

"Sometimes."

 

"But if you're not with her, what happens if someone wants to do something with you that you don't want?"

 

"I'd say no, but it usually doesn't come to that." She was wearing a slender gold chain around her neck, and now she hooked her finger under it and tugged up. There was a pendant--an X, with each arm about as long as her thumb. "X means hands off unless the Dom or the sub makes a very clear invitation. You don't mess with the X. Violation means censure, and if it happens more than once..." She shrugged. "It's never happened more than once. Actually, I don't think it's ever happened, except with a member's guest, who forgot himself. But if it did, they'd be drummed out of the club, and shut out of pretty much all of the local life. They'd end up very lonely, or they'd have to play with the fringe element, and they're dangerous. I wouldn't advise it."

 

"Trent, Tilda." It was Clive's voice from the front. Both of the subs moved immediately, going to the front counter.

 

Chloe was just closing her purse. She smiled at Trenton. "Understand now, little man?"

 

"Yes, ma'am!" said Trenton enthusiastically. "I wish I could come."

 

"I do, too. You'd make a perfectly delicious English schoolboy, and I think you and Tilda would be sweet together. Clive, are you sure you won't bring him by later?"

 

"Chloe, he's only seventeen," said Clive.

 

"But I'll be eighteen in two months," protested Trenton.

 

Clive gave him a stern look. "And what does that have to do with this?"

 

"Nothing, sir."

 

"Right. Don't be impatient, Trenton. You have your entire life before you."

 

Present day

 

"I remember that he said his birthday is in December," said Chloe.

 

Clive smiled. "Last week."

 

Chloe cocked an eyebrow. "Well?" Clive just smiled, and Chloe smiled back. "I look forward to seeing you at the party."

 

An hour later Clive was back in his office when Trenton came in. Trent called greetings to the others as he hung up his jacket and cap. He went to kiss his mother on the cheek. "How'd he take it?"

 

She gave him a solemn look. "He wants you to go back to his office right away."

 

"Oo." Trenton knew that delaying the inevitable would only make things worse, so he headed back immediately. His gift wreath was still hanging on the door. He tapped, and heard Clive call, "Come in."

 

He went inside, shutting the door after himself. Clive was sitting at his desk, booted feet propped on it. His expression was inscrutable as he silently crooked a finger at Trenton, then pointed to his lap.

 

Trent sat sideways on Clive's lap. He wasn't sure whether he should be worried, or relieved. Being asked to sit on Clive's lap was usually a good thing, but the silence added an element of doubt.

 

Clive reached up and ran his fingers through Trent's hair, slowly rearranging a few curls. Trent was tempted to lean into his touch, but he thought that it might be wiser to sit still till he was sure of how things stood. 

 

Clive reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a chocolate drop. He unwrapped it, then said, "Open." Trent opened his mouth, like a baby bird, waiting to be fed, and Clive popped the candy in. "Take your time with that."

 

Trenton smiled as he started to suck on his treat. He loved chocolate, and was tempted to just chew it up, but Clive had said take his time, which meant he wanted a show, so Trenton gave it to him. He kept eye contact with his Dom, hollowing his cheeks to suck down the chocolate as it dissolved. He contrived to get a couple of smears on his lips, and finished by slowly licking them clean. Finally he smiled and said, "So I'm not in trouble?"

 

"No, you're not in trouble. Lynette says you made it yourself." Trent nodded. Clive pulled him down for a kiss. "That's very sweet, dear. You put some real thought and effort into that. It's one of the best presents I've ever gotten. Look in my left hand drawer."

 

Trenton opened the drawer and peered inside, then looked at Clive. "Go on." Trenton lifted out the small hinged jewelry box. 

 

He held it, running his fingers over the black satin outside. "You already gave me my birthday present, and it's early for Christmas."

 

"It's another just because present. Open it." Trenton opened the box. It was a necklace, a chunky silver X on a sturdy matching chain. Clive could tell that he recognized it immediately. "Looks familiar? There's no hard and fast rule about the materials, and I just fancy you more in silver."

 

"Does this mean you're going to take me to the meetings?"

 

"We'll see." Trent's expression fell a little. "It does mean that I'll be taking you to the Christmas party this Friday, if you think you're ready for it." Trenton threw his arms around Clive's neck, and the Dom patted him on the back. "There are rules, pet. That isn't a casual piece of jewelry. It's to be worn on specific occasions."

 

"Yes, sir. I know. But could I put it on for a little while now? Pleeeease?"

 

Clive laughed. "All right." He reached into the box, picking up the necklace, and opening the clasp. "Bend your head." Trenton bowed his head, and Clive slipped the chain over it.

 

Trenton felt the cool kiss of metal on his skin as the charm slipped down under his collar to lay against his chest. Then he felt the warmth of Clive's hand, laying over it. "This may mean different things to different people, precious. For some of them, it's a sign of ownership. That isn't how I see it. Do you know what it means to me?"

 

Trenton pressed his own hand over Clive's. "It's your mark of protection. It means that if anyone hurts me, they deal with you."

 

"Yes." Clive reached into his pocket again. This time he pulled out a peppermint and unwrapped it. Trenton opened his mouth without being prompted, and Clive popped it in. As Trenton sucked on the candy he felt Clive stroking his fly, and he sighed happily. He was even happier when Clive pulled his own hands down to his crotch. 

 

Trenton was a little surprised and disappointed when a few moments later Clive urged him off his lap. Then Clive stood, and took Trent's arm, maneuvering him to sit in the chair. Trenton watched in bewilderment as Clive peeled a Post-It note off a pad, then laid it by the edge of the desk. Clive tapped the paper. "That's for parking your mint," he opened his fly, "between."

 

Trenton's eyes went wide as Clive exposed his hard-on. He took the peppermint out of his mouth and said, "But Clive, that peppermint is strong. Wouldn't it make...?"

 

Clive reached out and took a firm grip in Trenton's hair on either side. "Yes, it will. And if you're careful, that one peppermint can last a good, long time."

 

Trenton grinned, set the candy on the paper, and reached out to grab Clive's hips, pulling him closer. It did last a good, long time. Trenton would pause every now and then for another few sucks on the slowly diminishing peppermint. Once he mumbled around it, "How does it feel?"

 

"Talking with your mouth full, Trent?"

 

"So spank me."

 

Clive laughed. "It tingles. Be a very good boy, and I'll show you some day."

 

Friday

 

"Clive, I wish you'd sprung the party on Trenton as a surprise."

 

They'd just closed up. Lynette was putting away the last bits of equipment at her station, and Clive was making a last few notes in the appointment book before closing. He looked up, frowning. "Why?"

 

"Because that boy has been just about ready to die with excitement the last couple of days. I swear, I haven't seen him like this since..." she smiled, looking away. "Since just before his seventeenth birthday."

 

Clive smiled, but made no answer. He was glad that Trenton realized how lucky he was to have Lynette. She wasn't one hundred per cent aware of her son's sex life (and that was as it should be), but she knew Clive, so she had a good idea--and she was all right with it. Clive was grateful for this. He knew from personal experience that being 'different' could strain family relations. 

 

There was a sound, and Clive looked up to see Trenton taking his key out of the lock. Trenton waved, then opened the door and came in. "Hey, Mom." He smiled. "Clive."

 

"Hi, sweetie," said Lynette. "Did you remember to bring everything you need, or do you want me to bring you something when I get home?"

 

Trenton held up a paper sack. "I'm set."

 

"Great, just hold up on locking the door, then." She slipped into her jacket, and grabbed her purse. At the door, she kissed Trenton. "Have a good sleep over, hon."

 

He grinned. "You, too."

 

Lynette blushed as she left. As Trenton was locking the door, Clive said, "And that was about?"

 

"Henderson is coming over tonight."

 

"Ah. Naughty boy, teasing your mother."

 

"She knows I like Henderson. I'm glad she's got a boyfriend now." He went over to Clive and slipped his arms around his neck. "It's nice having a boyfriend."

 

Clive gave him a peck. "Show me what you're wearing."

 

Trenton took a step back and removed his hat and jacket, laying them on the counter. Then he did a slow turn, so that Clive would have a good view. Trenton was wearing a pair of forest green slacks and a long sleeved, red silk shirt. "Very nice. 'Tis the season without being too kitsch. What else?" Trenton hooked a finger in the chain around his neck and pulled the X charm out from under his collar. Clive reached over and opened another couple of buttons on his shirt, and positioned the necklace so that the charm was clearly visible in the vee. "They should know to look, once they see the chain, but we're not going to make them look, are we?"

 

"No, sir."

 

"Follow me." He led Trenton back to his private station, and went to the toy cabinet in the corner. Clive opened it, then gestured at the contents. "Choose what you want to wear. No harness, because that generally indicates a level of experience you haven't reached yet, and no clamps, because you'd be wearing them too long, but anything else. Good God, I wish you could see your face right now, precious. The last time I saw an expression like that was when I offered a lady her choice of a box of premium chocolates."

 

Trenton studied the contents of the cabinet. He reached out, touching a strap here, a silk scarf there. After a moment he took down three lengths of soft, braided black suede. He handed two to Clive. "These would make nice arm bands."

 

"Yes, they would." Clive tied one around each of Trenton's arms, high up on the bicep. "I'm going to have you wear these bare chested some day--they'll set your muscles off nicely." Trenton handed over the third one. "And this?" Trenton silently reached up and touched his throat. "Are you certain, dear?" he asked softly. Trent nodded, and Clive tied the braided strap around his throat in a collar, letting the ends trail over his shoulder, where they'd provide a leash, if he so desired. "Is that all?"

 

"One more thing." He reached into the cabinet and pulled out a set of handcuffs, handed them to Clive, then turned his back, putting his wrists close together behind his back.

 

Instead of cold steel, Trenton felt warm flesh encircle his wrists as Clive took hold of him, then whispered in his ear. "Are you certain, precious?" His hands slid slowly up Trenton's arms. "Do you really want to give up that much control?"

 

"You know I do," he breathed.

 

"Yes." Clive kissed the back of his neck, then gave him a little push, turning him around. He slipped the cuffs into his pocket, and when he saw the disappointed look in his lover's eyes, he tapped Trenton's nose. "Even though you look adorable, don't pout. You'll get to wear your pretty bracelets, but not till we get to the party. I'd have a little trouble explaining them if a policeman stopped us to sell me some raffle tickets. Now, let's go put your jacket on." He stroked his hands down Trenton's chest. "This shirt is thin, it's cold outside, and I don't want my boy to catch a chill."

 

As they rode, Clive said, "Do you remember the rules we discussed?"

 

"Yes, sir." Trenton squinted up at the ceiling. "Don't speak to the Doms unless spoken to first, but I can talk to the subs all I want. No touching the other subs if they're wearing the sign, but that's not going to be a problem anyway, since I'm hoping to be handcuffed." He gave Clive an annoyed look, and said, "No begging from others. As if."

 

Clive smiled, but said, "There have to be clear cut rules. You may, however, beg from me as much as you like. I may want to let one or two of the others examine you. Would you have a problem with that?" Trenton was quiet, and Clive said, "Yes, think carefully, dear. It's a definite step up in your experience. I won't grant permission to anyone who'll take excessive liberties."

 

Trenton looked down, and said, "I think I'd like that," then he peeked quickly at Clive, to gauge his reaction.

 

Clive stroked Trenton's cheek, and said quietly, "I know that now you believe that you'll never want anyone but me in any way, but you've never been awakened to the possibilities. You never had the chance to explore what it might be like with other people. This way you can have a little of that safely." He kissed Trent. "I want your life to be full, baby boy."

 

"But with you..."

 

"We're not going to discuss this tonight," Clive said firmly. "Nothing heavy tonight." He gripped Trent's arms and shook him gently. "We're celebrating the holidays tonight. Now, I need to go call us a taxi."

 

"We aren't going in your car?" Clive's car was a sporty little number, and Trent loved riding in it.

 

"I'm going to have a few drinks. I don't intend to get drunk by any means, but I don't drive if I have more than one."

 

The party was being held in one of the more lavish apartment buildings downtown. The moment the taxi slowed to a stop before it, a uniformed doorman stepped up and opened the door. A second one was waiting to open the door for them. "Good evening, sir."

 

"Good evening. We're here for the Carson party."

 

"And your names?"

 

"Clive, and guest."

 

The man checked a list at his desk, and smiled at them. "Yes, sir. You can take the express elevator. I'll buzz upstairs and tell them to expect you."

 

They got into the elevator. It was different from most Trenton had seen. Instead of a bank of buttons for the different floors there were three--Emergency, Lobby, and Penthouse. Clive pushed the Penthouse button. As the doors slid shut Clive said, voice firm, "Jacket off, and present."

 

Trenton immediately took off his jacket, handing it to Clive, turned, and put his hands behind his back. He listened to the brisk click as Clive closed the cuffs on his wrists. Then Clive said, "Hold still." Trenton did, but damn he wanted to try to look around when Clive settled something on his head. 

 

It wasn't a hat--he could tell that. It felt more like a strand of something. "What? Am I going to be wearing tinsel?" No answer while Clive adjusted the new adornment. "Christmas lights? Am I going to be blinking at everyone?" Clive pinched his ass. "Holly?"

 

"You'll find out." The doors slid open, and they stepped out into a small entry hall. Before they could go to the door located across from the elevators, it opened.

 

It was Mathilda. She was wearing a red satin teddy, white fishnet stockings, high patent leather boots, and a Santa Claus hat. She grinned at them cheekily and said, "Ho, ho, ho. C'mon in. Can I take your coat? Shirt? Pants? Underwear?"

 

Clive took off his own coat and handed both over. "Just these."

 

"Drat." She examined Trent, then surprised him by leaning over and laying a fast kiss on him. "Hit the eggnog in the china punch bowl--that's the one that's spiked. Maybe if you get a few cups down you, you'll feel warm enough to change your mind."

 

"You can always tell Santa that's what you want," said Clive. He took hold of Trenton's arm and guided him toward an open archway that was a little way down the hall, leaving Mathilda to hang up the coats. That was the source of music, voices, and laughter. Trenton had been a little disconcerted by Tilda's kiss, but he started to smile when he heard the song. He'd been expecting the usual Christmas carols.

 

"Santa, honey, I want a yacht, and really

that's not a lot.

I've been an angel all year,

Santa, baby, hurry down the chimney tonight..."

 

The chatter increased as they walked in, many people calling greetings. A number of them came over to speak to Clive, while Trenton looked around with avid curiosity. 

 

It looked a lot like most 'grown-up' parties, if a little up scale. There was a well spread buffet table with white clad caterers attending, and several young men and women were circulating, carrying trays of drinks and canapés. The main difference, Trenton decided, was the dress code. They certainly hadn't specified 'formal wear'. If they had, he seriously doubted that some of the leather garments would have qualified. He was certain that semi-nudity wouldn't have met formal standards.

 

Clive pinched his arm, and Trenton almost jumped, turning his attention quickly to his Dom. "It's normal to be distracted in a new environment, dear," he said mildly, "but it's time to come back to earth."

 

The host, Ronald Carson, was a handsome man in his thirties. At least Trenton assumed he was handsome--it was hard to tell behind the long white beard, since Ronald was in full Santa Claus costume. It looked good on him, though to be completely authentic he'd have needed a lot of padding. He was way too buff to portray a classic Santa. He shook hands with Clive, then pulled down his beard and laid a deep kiss on Trenton. Grinning, he said, "Nice package, Clive. Don't guess you'll open him tonight?"

 

"In the finest Christmas tradition, he's still a bit too green for that."

 

"Oh, well. Something else to look forward to. Trenton, there are people here who want to meet you. Everyone, this is Clive's boy--Trenton."

 

The next few minutes were a whirl of introductions... and kisses. Lots of kisses. Kisses from women, kisses from men, kisses from Doms and Dommes--and from subs, once they'd gotten permission. Kisses on the cheek, kisses on the brow, kisses on the throat (with a quick nip just above the collar), kisses with tongue, and an especially tickly one right--on--the ear.

 

Trenton didn't mind. He liked it. It was nice being greeted with such unrestrained good-will by so many new people while he knew he had his Dom right at his side to stop anything that got out of hand. 

 

By the time the greeting was over, Trenton was beginning to get out of breath. He panted, "I think I'm gonna really love this group, but is everyone always this affectionate?"

 

Ronald cocked an eyebrow, then looked at Clive. Clive shrugged. "I provided his last accessory, and he hasn't seen it yet."

 

Ronald grinned. "Oh, allow me. This way." He led Clive and Trenton across the room. "My decorator talked me into this big ass mirror. He swore it would make the room look bigger. Of course he didn't take into account shindigs like this, when the reflections of the guests make the place look twice as crowded. Everyone," he waved. "One side. Let's give the pretty Christmas ornament a look at what Clive pulled on him."

 

Chuckling, the guests moved to the side so that there was a clear space before the floor-to-ceiling mirror. The glass reflected the whole room, but Trenton was front and center. He studied himself, and everything became very clear.

 

The wreath on his head wasn't holly, tinsel, or lights, but it was seasonally traditional. It was a garland of mistletoe. 

 

Trenton burst out laughing, and Clive said, "You shouldn't be surprised, dear. By now you know how much I like games. You don't seem upset."

 

"Upset? I don't think I've ever felt so welcome in my entire life. Oh, and this pendant works. All those smooches, and not one person copped a feel."

 

"Course not," said Carson cheerfully. "Anyone tries something they shouldn't with a sub, and we're all lining up to correct their mistaken assumptions. Well, I gotta go play host." He took off his Santa cap and placed it firmly on Clive's head. "Here ya go, Santa-Clive."

 

Clive led Trenton over to a sofa. "Let's park it for a while, dear. You can watch the fun, and catch your breath." He sat. Trenton started to sit beside him, but he squealed in surprise as Clive quickly pulled him down to sit on his lap. Clive wrapped his arms around Trenton. "Tell Santa what you want for Christmas."

 

Trenton happily looked around the room. He was with the man he loved, and now he was being introduced to a whole community that would understand and protect him. "I've already got everything I want."

 

"There must be something. Tell me," he nibbled Trent's neck, "in detail."

 

Trenton grinned slyly. "I know that it isn't the standard gift, but if I'm really, really good, can I have some switches?"

 

The End


End file.
